The Truck
by gypsy season
Summary: An AU: What if Trinity didn't make it to the phone booth in time to get out of the Matrix? *Now a Chapter 4*
1. Chapter, The One

The Truck

By the Gypsy of a Multitude of Colors, MulticoloredGypsy!

If the Matrix was mine, I'd be rich rich rich! But I'm not…you do the math.

Trinity turned the corner and there was her exit. But across the road loomed danger in the form of a truck. It was aimed straight at the phone booth; Trinity knew an Agent was inside. The phone started ringing and Trinity took off, but at the same time, the truck drove forward. She had to get there in time.

The truck was almost there! She picked up the phone, her heart racing. She knew she had made it. But as she raised the phone to her ear, the glass around her shattered into billions of pieces. The glass barely touched her body when the truck hit and Trinity knew it was over. The phone, just inches away from her ear, was knocked out of her hands from the impact of the truck smashing against her body.

She couldn't even scream as her body erupted in an un-familiar pain as she was driven into a wall, which tumbled down, burying her in debris. _It isn't real._ She tried to convince herself that the pain of her bones breaking but it failed to help her. And when the truck backed out from the wall, she collapsed onto the ground, a burning chest pain preventing her from crying out. Just as an Agent got out of the truck, a piece of debris fell, knocking her on the head, and she lost consciousness.

"We got her." Agent Smith proclaimed with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He looked down at her broken, bleeding body and almost smiled.

"What should we do?" Agent Brown asked, walking to the scene with Jones behind him. "Should we destroy her?"

As Agent Jones drew his gun, Agent Smith held up a hand. "No. Too suspicious. She won't survive." He pulled out a cell phone and dialed three numbers.

"Wonder what happened." Thomas Anderson voiced his thoughts when he saw the ambulance speeding down the street on his way to one of Choi's clubs.

DuJour walked onto the next block and saw a truck in the middle of the road and a huge chunk missing from the building. Laying in the rubble of the building was what looked like a phone booth. "Man, that looks pretty bad." The rest of the group followed.

"Wish I knew what kind of drugs that driver was doing." Brandon, who was always on a new drug each week, asked. Choi smacked him on the head.

"Shut up." He surveyed the scene carefully. "Hey, someone must've gotten hit." He pointed to the crowd of paramedics all standing over something lying in the rubble.

Taryn, the dark haired woman with the nose ring attached to her ear, walked closer to the scene. "Hey, what happened?"

The ambulance driver, having heard her question, stuck his head out the window. "Hit and run, I'll say. Probably some asshole that didn't want the blame to be put on him."

"So someone was hit?" Choi took DuJour's hand and pulled her over to the site. The driver nodded.

"Her pulse is fading." One of the paramedics said, an edge of panic in her voice.

"Don't move her!" A man snapped when another paramedic came out with a stretcher. "I don't know what happened to her. It's safer when we find out."

The first paramedic shook her head. "No. We have to get her to the hospital or we're going to lose her."

Brandon winced when he caught sight of the accident victim as the paramedics put her onto a stretcher. "Ooh, that's gonna be hell to fix."

"What?" Tom walked over to get a better look, but Choi held him back.

"Man, you don't want to see that. Trust me."

Tom tried hard not to laugh. The last time he trusted Choi he ended up spending a week in prison. Choi was a cool guy to hang around, but like everyone else he had his vices, and what horrible vices they were. He never pitied or cared for anyone but himself, DuJour occasionally. The two had been together for a few years and still going strong.

Brandon glanced at his watch and then back at the crowd. "Come on, let's go. If we don't get moving there'll be a line all down the block to get inside."

As the paramedics moved the stretched into the ambulance, Tom noticed the bloody mess of a woman lying on it. She was dressed all in black leather. Beneath the blood, her skin was pale and smooth. Tom couldn't help notice how beautiful she was, had she not just been in an accident.

"Tom, you coming?" Choi called impatiently. Tom took one last look at the ambulance before jogging to catch up with the others.

"Dozer, something happened." Tank called to his brother, who was standing over Trinity, ready to un-plug her from the Matrix. Dozer looked up at the screens and in an instant a look of fear washed over his normally calm features. Trinity's life signals went berserk.

"Oh shit." Switch, who had seen the screen of green scrolling code, was equally shocked as Dozer and Tank. "Mouse, get Morpheus."

"There's no need." Morpheus seemed to appear out of thin air. No one heard him coming. "What is it?"

"Morpheus, there was an accident." Tank didn't take his eyes off the code. "She was almost out when the truck…"

Mouse clenched his fists together at the thought of Trinity, the strongest of them all, meeting her end like that. "She's alive?"

"Barely." Dozer observed.

"There's an ambulance." Tank said, his voice shaking. Morpheus came over to his side and placed a had on Tank's shoulder.

"Why didn't the Agent's finish her?" Mouse wondered. Normally they would have shot her, had they seen she was still alive.

Morpheus's eyes didn't move from the code. "Because they know something we don't."

The room was white, an almost blinding white. What was she doing here? An all white place, it was vaguely familiar, like déjà vu. She was lying down, but her body was numb. Why? What had happened to her. Her eyes darted around the room for something to help answer her questions.

A door creaked opened, catching her by surprise, causing her to jump. The slight motions send a wave of pain through her body. She shut her eyes and moaned. Whatever happened to her, she hoped she was in some type of hospital because she felt like she needed all the doctors in the world to make her feel better.

"You're finally up, Eve." A woman said all too cheerfully to sound normal. She wore all white to match the room. She walked over to a machine and closely observed what it read, and then moved back to the bed.

"Eve?" She instantly regretted speech, now learning the hard way that even the slightest action caused her a great amount of pain.

The woman in white nodded. "Who did you think you were?" 'Eve' refrained from shrugging her shoulders, imagining how it would hurt. She could do nothing more than stare blankly at the woman in the room.

"Don't try to speak," _Now she tells me. Great timing._ "I'll answer all your questions." She glanced at the papers at the end of Eve's bed. "You were in a car accident. You were driving along when another car crashed into you. If you had worn your seatbelt you probably would have be this bad."

"Why can't I remember it?" Eve's voice was hoarse from being silent for god knows how long. She tried but couldn't remember anything involving her driving in a car.

The woman in white, who Eva assumed to be a nurse, put the papers back in the folder and grinned. "There have been many cases where accident victims don't remember what happened. It was just the shock of it all."

Eve's body tensed when she tried to remember before the accident. She found her eyes filled with tears.

"How come I can't remember anything?"


	2. Chapter, The Two

The Truck

By the Gypsy of a Multitude of Colors, MulticoloredGypsy!

If the Matrix was mine, I'd be rich rich rich! But I'm not…you do the math.

A helpful note: This first part takes place just after the truck accident. When "Eve" wakes up is far after this.

"Choi, where are you going?" Tom asked, following Choi and DuJour out of the club. "What happened?"

"It's Brandon." Choi said, seeming distracted as well as tense and distracted. "Stupid fuck OD'ed. Taryn's with him." He pushed past the crowds of people and exited the club. He got inside the nearest phone booth and dialed three digits. 911.

"Is he ok?" Tom asked, glancing back at the club. For all he knew Brandon could be lying dead on the ground.

DuJour's dark eyes met Tom's, her inner sadness viewable from only there. "He's having some kind of seizure. Don't know what he took. He came up, started talking with me and then he's on the floor. Thought he was dying, scared the shit out of me."

"Are you scared now?" DuJour nodded. She had been close with Brandon before she met Choi. The two of them went way back - no one knew how long. The two had met through some drug deal and hit it off from there. They've been friends, sometimes more, ever since.

Tom knew what it felt like to lose a close friends. It was the reason he no longer had any close friends; just Choi, Taryn, DuJour, Brandon and some others who wandered in and out of his life. Before he could utter any comforting words to DuJour, she put her arms around his shoulders and cried. "I don't know what's gonna happen to him. I don't wanna lose him, but I just can't be in there with him. I can't go in there with him, can't see him like that."

Choi exited the phone booth without saying a word and explained his situation to the bouncer, asking to be let in without having to wait.

"My friend's fucking _dying_ in there. Just let me in, god damn it!" Choi was desperate. DuJour ran over to join Choi back inside, leaving Tom alone. What else was left for him to do than to wait for the ambulance? He was always singled out, left alone. He was just one man, his own person, he didn't need to spend every hour trailing a clique of stoners with nothing to do but do drugs, hack databases and go to clubs. But they were the closest things he had to friends.

"Oh my god, oh my god." Taryn cried over and over again, looking through the window of the operating room. Tom sat in a chair, his eyes shut. He hated hospitals ever since he was a kid. They were so clean, so neat, so organized. You'd think they were perfect, but then again perfection should have been able to keep Tom's brother alive. He had heard the flatline of the monitor before, and each left a scar on his heart. He didn't want to hear another flatline. He just couldn't.

Inside the room, DuJour stood, Choi's hand squeezed in her iron grip as she watched the doctors struggling to keep Brandon alive and out of danger. His body convulsed from another seizure and he let out a muffled cry. He was between life and death, the destination to be determined by even the slightest thing done, whether right or wrong.

And then Brandon's body lay still. Through eyes blurred with tears DuJour thought for a moment that Brandon was going to be ok. Then came the flatline. "Brandon?" She whispered, shocked. "Brandon?"

A doctor closed Brandon's lifeless eyes. DuJour took his hand in hers and looked up at the doctors. "Where are you going? Why aren't you helping him?" She looked down at Brandon. How could he be dead? Just minutes ago he was dancing in the club. "Brandon, come back. Come back!"

"DuJour!" Choi grabbed her arm. "He's dead. He's gone." And then reality hit. These words were more than something to help comfort DuJour; they were the truth. They were _real_.

Sitting out in the hall, Tom heard DuJour scream before breaking down into harsh sobs. It could only mean one thing; Brandon was dead. Tom shuddered. He could almost hear the flatline in his mind; he shook his head as if it would help the situation. _Of course it won't._ He thought to himself. Brandon's dead. Dead dead dead…

The word echoed in his brain like they had done those times before. Why did people have to die? Yes, no one could live forever, but dying was always so hard on people, it was always too soon.

DuJour's sobs replaced the flatline sound and Tom couldn't take it anymore. Yes, he wanted to comfort his friends, but he couldn't find it in him to stay. He got up from the chair and walked down the hall to the elevator. On his way he passed by three men in suits and sunglasses talking to a confused looking nurse.

"If I'm not mistaken, a female has just been admitted to your facility." Agent Smith waited for the nurse to respond. After a few silent moments, she recognized his statement as a question and nodded slowly.

"She's in the room at the end of the hall." The Agents' gazes followed her pointing hand to the closed door. "Why do you ask? Are you family?"

"No," Smith said stiffly. "But we need you to do us a favor." The nurse nodded again and he continued. "One of the injuries she's sustained is a head wound. These may often lead to amnesia, is that correct?" Another nod. "When she wakes, if she survives, I want you to lie to her."

"Excuse me?" The nurse looked even more confused. "We don't even know anything about her as it is accept a truck hit her while she was making a phone call and-"

"No. Do not tell her this information."

The nurse put her hands on her hips. "That is against regulation, sir. I can't do that. I'll lose my job."

Agent Smith showed no signs of frustration. Agent Brown and Agent Jones exchanged glances devoid of all expression. "It is for her own good. Instead, I'd like you to tell her she was in a car accident. She was-"

"I already told you, Sir," The nurse was getting annoyed. "I can't do that. It's against regulation. Do you want me to call security?"

Agent Jones stepped forward and pulled out a thick wad of 500 dollar bills out of his left pocket. He held it out to the nurse, who hesitated before taking it. "There will be more if you cooperate with us."

The nurse took a deep breath, checked to make sure no doctors were around, and stepped closer to the Agents. "What do you want me to do?" She asked in a hushed voice.

"There was a car accident." Agent Smith said in his usual monotone. "She wasn't wearing her seatbelt when a car crashed into hers."

"What's her name?" The nurse assumed the three men must know who the woman was, seeing they were going out of their way to do something for her, even if it was lying and against regulation.

"Her name is Eve."

Without another word, the Agents turned and stepped inside the elevator courteously held open by a young man dressed in dark clothes and messy hair. He had been sitting outside the room where the drug addict had been brought inside, the Agents observed. He looked confused and angry as he stared at his feet.

The nurse was left alone, confused and worried. Why did the men want her to lie to her patient? She fingered the money hidden in her pocket. It was against the rules, but she needed money to pay her rent. Maybe she should go out and buy a nice outfit or two, maybe a new toy for Robert, her 6 year old son. She missed spending time with her family, but she needed this job to keep them alive and healthy. Her only family was Robert and Diana, her sister who watched over Robert while she was working.

With a final glance around to check for doctors, she headed inside her patent 'Eve's' room to check on her before she went into surgery with but one thought in her mind. _Why were those men wearing sunglasses indoors?_


	3. Chapter, The Three

The Truck

By the Gypsy of a Multitude of Colors, MulticoloredGypsy!

If the Matrix was mine, I'd be rich rich rich! But I'm not…you do the math.

Helpful Hint: The plotline skips around a bit *cough* a lot. It's because I keep getting ideas but don't want to re-write the chapters. You can tell by the chapter titles that I do things a little different. The second part (Eve's visitor) happens before Eve wakes up.

Eve's body tensed when she tried to remember before the accident. She found her eyes filled with tears.

"How come I can't remember anything?"

The nurse was instantly at her side. "It's alright, dear." Eve was now crying freely, afraid of what she did not know. The nurse reached out and gently stroked her forehead, her gentleness possessing the ability to calm the young woman in her care. Eve's eyes soon closed and she was asleep.

__

Poor girl. She thought. _No one deserved this kind of suffering, no matter what they did._ She took the papers at the end of the bed and scribbled a few notes on her patient's progress for the day. She most likely won't wake for another few days.

She looked so serene and relaxed just lying there, not a trace of pain among the many scars left from the incident. Sleep would be good for her. She would regain the strength she needed to recover mentally as well as physically from the accident. When she finally did get her memory back, she would be very confused as well as scared. It's not exactly pleasant wandering around wondering who you are and what's going on and then suddenly all these thoughts rush into your head telling you an entire life's worth of information. It's terrifying.

The man that walked up to the front desk wore all black - maybe he was in mourning? - and an un-readable look on his face.

"I'm visiting a friend. In room 302." He said calmly. If he was upset he masked it perfectly behind a veil of blankness that no one could see through. Accept maybe the woman he was visiting.

The man behind the desk typed some information into the computer. "You do know that she's unconscious and most likely won't wake today? She was just brought in three days ago."

"Yes, I know. May I go see her?" The mystery man had already known the woman's room number. He had seen it the day she was brought in. He had watched the doctors operate on her with a heavy heart. He had never been to this hospital in his life, yet he had already visited his friend before. How could it be that he had never telephoned the hospital and yet he already knew what room his friend was staying in and what her condition was?

Because Morpheus watched it all happen.

After sitting at the multiple screens reading the endless green code, Morpheus was tired of reading. He wanted to go inside and see Trinity and somehow make her believe that this was all fake, all her injuries. The accident wasn't real - just a bunch of green code. The hospital wasn't real either.

The man behind the desk nodded. "Fine. But it's pretty pointless if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you." Morpheus smiled and turned around. "But thank you. Which floor is that?"

"Second." The man said curtly.

Morpheus closed the door behind him, careful not to make too much noise, even though no noise could wake Trinity from her sleep. He pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down.

Trinity was a mess; it would have amazed anyone that she survived, but Morpheus knew better. He knew Trinity long enough to know that she was strong and wouldn't give up without a fight. As she lay there, helpless, Morpheus wanted her to open her eyes and let him know for sure that she would be fine. Morpheus could see her from the Neb, but he couldn't see the future.

"Only the Oracle." He muttered to himself as he watched the steady rise and fall of Trinity's chest. If there was a god, Morpheus would be thanking Him. He had witnessed a car accident before he had been freed. He had seen a car slam into who he thought was the strongest man he had ever known and kill him almost instantly.

Trinity was worse off - she had been rammed purposely into a wall. But it wasn't real and she knew that before she was hit. Maybe that's what kept her alive.

Morpheus reached out a hand and lay it gently on Trinity's forehead. He gently pushed her hair off to the side so he could have a better look at her. She slept with almost a smile on her lips - true, she never did smile - like she was just having an afternoon nap. Why was she smiling? _Probably because she survived._

He took his hand off Trinity's forehead and took her hand instead. He felt her hand was warm as he massaged it gently. He didn't know how long he had stayed there with her, but when the sun began to set and Morpheus was about to leave, Trinity's peaceful expression twisted into one of pain and discomfort.

"Trinity?" Morpheus whispered. Trinity tossed her head side to side, letting a ragged cry escape her lips. Morpheus got up to go call a doctor when Trinity's eyes shot open, wide and unfocused. He sat back down in the chair, Trinity fighting back pain and drowsiness so she could stay conscious long enough to find out what was going on.

She opened her mouth to take a deep breath but a sharp pain quickly restrained her from doing so. Her eyes focused on the man sitting at her bed; he was dressed in all black and had no hair. He seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't assign him a name. His lips moved, he was speaking, but she heard him as if she was underwater, his words melting together before reaching her ears.

The man touched her hand softly, but not soft enough to cause her pain. He quickly drew back, seeing her face tighten and her eyes close. Unsure whether she was still awake or asleep, Morpheus refrained from touching her again. When her head slowly tilted to the side and she began breathing steadily again, he knew she was no longer conscious.

"I'll come and see you later." He spoke softly, giving her hand a squeeze before leaving. He nodded to the nurse on her way in to see her patient. She had been standing outside for the past few minutes. During that time, she couldn't help but overhear the man calling the woman Trinity. Her name was _Eve_. The men had told her so. They wouldn't have given her so much money had it been a lie, would they?

Morpheus desperately wanted to bring Trinity back home to the Neb, where he and the rest of the crew would take care of her. It wasn't even real, her pain, and she would be better in no time in the Real world. If he wasn't mistaken, Trinity had a head wound, which may or may not lead to amnesia. He couldn't bring her out and risk her mind, her sanity, her will to live. If she did have memory loss, the aspects of the Real world would be too much for her to handle.

He imagined what if would feel like going to bed and then waking up in a cold, dark ship with a plug in the back of your head. It would drive anyone insane, and Trinity was too valuable to destroy like that. So leaving her in the Matrix was best for now, at least until she was better. Morpheus would play it by ear. But eventually, he was going to get Trinity back into the Real world safe and sound. He would bring her home.

A/N: Remember, Morpheus's Visit was before Trinity woke up in the "white room". -Everybody raise your glass to the master of the house-


	4. Chapter, The Four

The Truck

By the Gypsy of a Multitude of Colors, MulticoloredGypsy!

If the Matrix was mine, I'd be rich rich rich! But I'm not…you do the math.

Author Memo: But of course, Chord! How can I forget about our dear and beloved hacker Tom? That's impossible! Oh, and for those who are wondering about Neo's future as the One, don't worry. Trust the Gypsy…Also, the plot is now caught up to where it should be. No more confusion, I hope.

Eve blinked through the darkness to find someone's hand on her shoulder, softly nudging her awake. It was Linda, the nurse who was with her almost every time she had been awake. Linda smiled apologetically when she saw Eve's eyes open.

"Hate to wake you, but you got some visitors. Sorry hon."

Eve struggled to pull herself into an upright position with her good arm, her left one wrapped tight against her body in a sling. Linda smiled to herself. Eve was a medical miracle, no doubt about it. No one had ever recovered so nicely from an accident as serious as hers. Besides her memory loss, there was no other permanent damage.

Eve had already been tested a few times for possible brain damage that might show up later on, but the doctors never found anything. Besides her injuries, she was perfectly fine and would be released as soon as she regained her memory or family came to claim her.

"Who's visiting?" Eve asked, glancing at the door for any trace of the visitors.

Linda opened the window curtains, letting in the sunlight. "They're out in the waiting room, but if they remind you of anything at all, tell me or a doctor right away." Eve nodded lightly and turned towards the door. Linda left the room and returned shortly after followed by three men with emotionless features, all wearing an earpiece and the same business like suits. And they wore sunglasses. Weird.

A warning sign flashed in Eve's head as she looked the men over carefully. One man placed his head over a pocket, ready to pull something out if necessary. Eve knew she remembered these men, she knew she had seen them before. Her mind was reaching out to remember them, but it was as if it was being held back. If only it could get a little push in the right direction.

"Do I know you?" She voiced, scratching her arm underneath the sling, which itched like crazy. Two of the men turned to the man in the middle, exchanging unseen glances. "Were we friends or something?" She continued, sensing their discomfort.

Linda looked up at Eve, praying for the girl to remember something, but she stared at the men with unfamiliar eyes. _Soon._ She thought. _Soon she'll have to remember something, anything._

The men's faces loosened up almost unnoticeably, but one of the men removed his hand from his pocket. The one standing in the middle stepped forward and in one swift motion he pulled a chair over to the side of Eve's bed and sat down.

"No, we've never met before. We work for the government on crime investigations." He took a slow, deep breath before continuing, his voice dragging. "We're trying to track down the man responsible for your accident. Any information you can give us will be vital in our search."

Eve nodded, dismissing the un-reasonable worry. 'They worked for the _government_.' She thought. 'They don't have anything on you.'

The man pulled up a chair and sat down next to Eve's bed. "Can you tell me everything that you remember about the incident."

Eve shrugged, her eyes locked on the man's sunglasses as she let out a deep breath. "Well, there isn't that much I can tell you, seeing that I don't remember…anything." She grinned. "All I can tell you is what I've been told. I was in my car and-"

"Yes, we know all about your accident." One of the other men cut in, his voice equally monotone, if not more, than the first man. "Are you certain that you don't remember anything? Even the slightest trace of memory can be useful."

Eve shook her head lightly. The man sitting beside her nodded to the other two men before rising silently and leaving.

"What's with the silent treatment?" Eve asked Linda, who merely shrugged. The woman seemed un-curious, if not familiar, with the men.

"That's just how they do their business."

Outside the door, Agent Jones glanced back at the room as they walked to the elevator. "Are we just going to leave her?"

"We should have killed her back when we had the chance." Agent Brown cut in.

Agent Smith pressed the button for the elevator. "No, we don't want these humans to suspect anything, dare they even to notice. She's lost her memory, no harm done, we just have to keep a close watch on her incase she remembers anything."

Tom lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thunder of pain in his leg induced from walking up the stairs, a task he would never have done, that is, unless the elevator was broken. The night he came back from the hospital after Brandon's death, he wound up right back where he came from with a broken ankle.

It was hard enough fumbling with his crutches, considering the option of scooting up on his behind, and taking days to do it. But at least he wouldn't starve, because he had three bags filled with groceries, as if the crutches weren't enough of a challenge. He made it 2 floors by the time someone passed him and carried his bags to the 5th floor. It was embarrassing, being so weak and incapable. It frustrated him that he always needed someone to help him.

Today was his first day of physical therapy, an activity that he believed was created by someone planning to do him in. It was sheer torture, all those leg exercises and trying to do all these stupid things in a large blue room with paintings of flowers and rainbows on the wall, the floor lines with blue mats which Tom had become very well acquainted with.

He didn't want to ever go back to the torture that was physical therapy, but the doctors insisted that he attended every session if he wanted to regain full use of his leg again. Why would it matter? He never danced at any of Choi's clubs, nor was he athletic. Sitting at one's computer doesn't involve much activity of any sort, not including one's fingers, which did _not_ need any therapy.

Eve slowly eased herself down onto the couch, helped by Maureen, a nurse. Her bones were sore, her muscles throbbing painfully. She let out a deep sigh, her body relaxing the instant it touched the pillow. She brushed the sweat from her brow with her good arm, her other still in a sling. Her breathing came in short gasps as she struggled to breathe properly.

Maureen patted Eve's shoulder. "I'll let you rest here for a while." _Like I can do otherwise?_ Eve though sarcastically. It was frustrating for her to be so incapable. Her memory loss wasn't any help either, though from her frustration she could guess she had been strong before the accident.

Eve looked around the room, surveying all the other people in the room. Doctors, patients, families, that man standing all alone in the corner. Eve couldn't tell where he was looking - his sunglasses guarded his eyes from the world. He stood as stiff as a statue, his tall body clothed in dark leather, but when he noticed Eve had been staring at him, he started walking.

Eve quickly turned away, pretending she hadn't been staring at the man. He didn't look very friendly, nor was he someone Eve wanted to be on bad terms with. She found a spot on the wall and pretended to be interested it, pretended she hadn't seen the man at all.

She felt the couch sink down next to her. She knew who it was even before she looked - well, she didn't know _who_ the man was, but she knew he was there. She didn't say anything.

"You're afraid. I don't believe it."

Eve looked at the man, hoping to satisfy him. She saw the outline of his muscles beneath his shirt. She had to come up with an answer so she wouldn't look like a fool.

"What would I be afraid of?"

The man shrugged, reached up with his hand and took of his glasses, revealing deep brown eyes that held Eve's fixation. They looked *familiar*, unlike everything else. Maybe this man was someone from her life before. But was he friend or foe? Judging by looks, he was more of the villain type, but you never really know someone unless you walk around in their shoes. Eve tried a different approach.

"Sorry, do I know you?"

The man smiled. "That depends. Who are you?"

Who are you? Eve raised a brow at the man's rude behavior. "Who am I? I'm not the one acting all mysterious." She kept her voice low. "I'm not the one that knows everything about themselves. Have you ever had amnesia?"

The man shook his head and went to stand up. "Sorry." Eve knew she had been rude, even though the man hadn't exactly been polite. "My name's Eve."

"Eve?" The man said thoughtfully. "How do you know that?"

What was he playing at? It's her name. "The doctors told me." She hung her head, embarrassed that she couldn't remember anything without someone's aid. She should've had a memo pad or something with her or something she could rely on without any problems.

"How can you be so sure the doctors told you the truth?"  


For god's sake, what did he want her to say? "You're right. There's no possible way for me to know they're telling the truth. Nobody even knows the truth. Especially not you. I could be William Shakespeare." She proclaimed sarcastically. "I could be Queen Elizabeth. Maybe even the holy Trinity!"

He laughed. What was funny? "I believe you are underestimating me, my dear Eve." He stood and bowed his head. "My name is Morpheus. Do not tell anybody that name. If we're lucky, we'll meet again in the future."

And he was gone.

Well that was weird. How many times to mysterious men wearing leather come up to you and don't tell you any more than your name? Not very often.

But he did tell you something, Eve thought. His eyes. She knew she had seen them before.

__

He stood before her in the middle of the street, cars whizzing past him on either direction, each missing him by a hair. What was he doing?

__

"You have to understand, in this place you can do anything. You know none of this is real, so what's holding you back?"

His brown eyes pierced hers.

~*~

That chapter took a lot longer than I had hoped it to. Sorry to keep you all in suspense there. I hope I'll have the next chapter up a little faster.


End file.
